


The Way of a Ninja

by mcxynth



Category: Gintama
Genre: Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Family Drama, Family Issues, Gen, Moving On, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-19 04:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15502161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcxynth/pseuds/mcxynth
Summary: Sarutobi Ayame enjoyed hate. She revelled in insults. What else did someone like her deserve? The only way for her to live was to live being hated - as an assassin raised in bloodshed.Born to kill, killed to live.But her past had caught up to her. It's tired of her constant running away. And after so long, her beliefs are challenged.Beneath her skin of stupidity and idiotic masochism lay a hollow shell, encasing a chained chest buried with blood and nightmares.And no one knew. No one knew until the paper flowers appeared in her mailbox - bringing with them dead memories and memories of death.





	1. Aphorism

**Author's Note:**

> Some things to know before starting:
> 
> 1\. This work is also available in Fanfiction(.)net and Wattpad, and ONLY in these three sites.  
> 2\. This story is pretty dark, in terms of childhood trauma but not graphic violence. There WILL be blood, but not blood-covering-the-streets-and-room kind of amount.  
> 3\. This story does not reflect any of the author's personal beliefs.
> 
> Enjoy the ride!

 

**NARRATIVE LEGEND**

Normal text - Present events

_Italics - Memories and dreams_

_Italics centered - Past voices_

_Italics,_ within normal text - _Sachan's thoughts,_ she thought.

 

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .** **.**

 

**APHORISM**

"The way of a ninja is to live being hated."

\- Uchiha Itachi,  _Naruto_

 

****


	2. Why are Paperflowers Not Made of Paper?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sachan receives the first sign.

Sachan didn't remember growing flowers in her mailbox. She squinted at the pale, crumpled flower inside, making sure she was seeing right. Putting a finger to her chin, she thought for a possible culprit - whoever was stupid enough to give  _her_ , of all people, flowers. Suddenly, she blinked and widened her eyes.

 _Could it be..._ She screamed in delight, "Gin-san, thank you!" Reaching inside, she grabbed the flower and cradled it to her chest, giggling like an insane little kid. Her mind immediately thought of places to put the flower in, or heck, frame it in. Maybe she'll have it laminated? Or, she could build an altar for it.

Then, she paused, realizing that she hadn't even looked at the flower.  _Oh, crap_ , she thought.  _Did I crumple it?_

She unclenched her fists, revealing a slightly more crumpled paper flower, pale and very much dead. She paused, as if doubting what she saw. She blinked multiple times, just to check if the flower was real.

But it really was a paper flower.

Her breath hitched. Closing her fists once again, she opened her mailbox and threw the flower in.

No words left Sachan's lips as she stared at the closed box. Her fists shook at her sides.

_"Papa, why is the house full of white flowers?"_

_Shut up._ Sachan shook her head, ridding her thoughts of a young child's voice. She gritted her teeth, annoyed.  _Sachan, get a grip._ She turned and rushed into her house, but the silence that welcomed her there only served to irk her further. It enveloped her, inviting more voices and thoughts she'd rather not hear or think about.

Sachan paced around her room, wildly shaking her head. She forced herself to laugh and talk - or more like emit high-pitched gibberish - just to deafen the voices awake inside her head. She was well aware that her neighbors would be wary of a mad Amanto living beside them, but she didn't stop laughing. Or gibbering. She lived alone in her house anyway, so to hell with them. As she moved about, she stubbed her toe on a table leg.

"Oww!" She hissed, adding curses while she crouched and massaged her toe. A white paper caught her eye. Turning her head to her table, she saw the picture of the Odd Jobs that she was cutting last night, to cut out Gintoki and add it to her collection. Her eyes immediately flitted to the wall beside her bed, full of the silver-haired samurai's pictures.

Without hesitation, she changed her clothes and left her house, focused on locating her perfect distraction.

* * *

Sachan didn't have to wait longer. The Odd Jobs were on their way home, making some noise as usual as they argued about where their payment would go. From her perch on the rooftop, she pounced.

"Gin-saaan!"

In a flash, Gintoki took out his sword and raised it in the air, the tip pointed up. He didn't even look her way as she ' _gah_ '-ed in pain and fell to the ground, clutching her stomach. She rolled around as the trio stared at her.

"Ah, Gin-san, you -  _ouch, damn it,_ " she mumbled while groaning in pain, "never fail -  _oww_ \- to disappoint -  _as always_  - that hurts!"

"Sachan, you kinda messed that up at the end-aru," Kagura said.

"Oi, stalker." Sachan looked up to see Gintoki's scowl. "I was having enough problems just deciding how our pay is spent-"

"How about try  _saving_ it?!" Shinpachi exclaimed.

"-and now you decide to add to my problems, huh?" He pointed his sword at her face. As always, as she stared up at him, her heart beat faster. Her face warmed up. "And why the hell are you blushing?!"

Sachan sat up, one hand to her chest like a damsel in distress. "Y-you could," she paused, looking up at him through her eyelashes, "spend it on me."

Gintoki karate-chopped her head. "Like hell I would."

"Kya!" she squealed, her face blushing even further.

"And shut up." Annoyed even more, Gintoki kicked her aside into a nearby stall. "Kagura, Shinpachi, let's go," he said as he turned and sprinted to Snack Otose. "First one home gets all four thousand yen!"

"Ah, Gin-chan, you cheater!" The little redhead, Kagura, clutched her parasol and ran after him.

"Bye, Sachan-san." Shinpachi glanced at Sachan before following her. "No fair, Gin-san!"

As the two caught up to Gintoki - or in Shinpachi's case, tried to, with all his strength - Sachan got up from the remains of the abandoned stall she had crashed into. She felt around the broken wooden boards and bent nails for her glasses, ignoring the occasional scratch and prick. The moment she picked it up, and right before she put it on, she heard the loud bang of a closing door.

She didn't flinch, too used to the sound. In fact, having met with its full force upfront multiple times already, she expected to hear it approximately eight seconds earlier. Giggling, she fixed her glasses on and stood up. She stretched her arms and looked at the sky, squinting and shielding her eyes from the light.

 _And with that, my day's now a good day,_ she thought.

"Miss, stop acting like some main heroine and move. You're in the way," a gruff voice said from behind her and she moved aside, giving way for two laymen carrying piles of wood. They continued conversing about their company relocating somewhere and whining about extra work, but to be frank to herself, Sachan didn't care and walked away.

She contemplated heading to break into the Odd Jobs - and see Gintoki again - but decided against it and headed to the nearest alley. With feline grace, she manuevered her way up the walls and up to the rooftop, soundlessly landing with her body crouched low.

Taking in the sight of the district's houses and Edo's tall buildings - and scrunching her nose at the putrid smell of garbage - her mind thought of other people she can see. Or bother, whichever they preferred to call it.

Her sharp, glasses-enhanced eyes caught sight of a scraggly man in a red kimono, trudging along some nearby street.  _Madao-san?_ she thought before shrugging. Having no alternative in mind yet, she sped to where he was, her footsteps making no sound on the old wooden rooftops.

* * *

Several hours passed and the ninja's feet landed soundlessly on another wooden rooftop. Her eyes searched the premises, looking for more pranks she could do, but found none anymore.

She had done so much already these past few hours. She had messed with a certain man-wearing shades - or was that the other way around? - had taken away the shades and thrown it into the nearby trash. She had turned to the shades' remains and laughed at the useless human being as he ran around looking for his precious identity.

She had shot a kunai into Zenzo's hemorrhoids as the unsuspecting ninja immersed himself into his new JUMP issue. She had laughed hysterically as he curled up into a ball in the middle of the street with a bleeding arse.

She had also exposed Kondou as he "stealthily" stalked Otae, earning him two bumps on the head and a bleeding nose. Hiding herself in a nearby dark corner, she had chuckled to herself as she watched him get tortured by the violent woman.

Heck, she had even stolen Hijikata's mayonnaise-infested dessert and replaced it with natto. She had ran away, cackling to herself and throwing the bowl of dog food behind her back - which happened to land on Okita's head. This started another useless fight, to which she had watched for a while to keep herself entertained.

But now, she had nothing left to do. The sun was setting on the horizon, its orange and purple hues painting the skies, reminding her it was dusk and she had forgotten to eat her lunch.

She turned toward home and laughed to herself, recalling the annoyed expressions that donned her victims' faces. One particular one stood out the most:

Gintoki's scowl aimed at her.

It gave her a twisted sense of satisfaction, and it wasn't just because she was a masochist. It satisfied her to know that the person she had fallen in love with loathes her.

 _What a distorted mindset,_ she mused, chuckling to herself as she stood up and leapt to the rooftop across the street. It was her main principle in life to be despised - because come on, she liked it - and the man to blame for it was someone she'd rather not remember. But since she had started thinking about it now for once, never doing so ever since she had set foot in Edo, she realized her efforts for distraction were starting to rot.

A prickly twinge in her spine caused her to stop and grab a kunai stashed on her thigh. Despite the growing shadows and darkening skies, her refined senses searched for the slightest signs of sleuths and suspicious eyes.

Sachan remained crouched on the rooftop, her body unmoving but eyes alert. After a few moments of normal activity in the streets below her, she lowered her weapon and tucked it back to its place. More silent than she was earlier, she continued to her house four rooftops away.

After landing on her front yard, her eyes caught sight of the closed mailbox, a silhouette against the violet sky of dusk and dark streets. Lips pursed, she hastened toward it, grabbed the flower inside, and took off to her room. She didn't care if she crumpled it or held it too tight that the petals would fall off. Once inside her room, she threw it onto her dresser.

Then, she continued on her nightly routine - cooked, ate, bathed, and lied down. As if she wasn't upset. As if no disturbance rattled her mind.

Sachan knew what waited for her in the abyss of sleep, ready for her to close her eyes and surrender to its cruel tendrils. And they did come, when she laid her head on her pillow, what she feared would come out from the hollow, shadowed recesses of her mind:

Nightmares - awoken by a single tell-tale sign of a past she had long left behind.


	3. Ninjas Don't Always Finish the Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sachan looks for a distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 in Wattpad and FFN are separated into two parts, but here I posted the whole one. c: Hope you guys enjoy!

_High-pitched squeals and radiant smiles filled the room as the women chattered on that warm sunny afternoon. They worked on some of their usual daily tasks - weaving, munching snacks (no, really -_ munching _), and folding clothes. It was just like any other day._

_And just like any other day, footsteps ran towards the women's room, accompanied by loud shouts of "Mama! Mama! Come see this!"_

_One of the women knitting paused and looked towards the sliding door. Sure enough, it slid open and revealed a young child of around ten years old. "Mama, look at this!" The child ran to her mom and showed her a fresh and new set of miniature kunais and shurikens._

_The woman beamed and patted her child's head, slightly ruffling her lilac locks. For a second, her smile faltered, but the child never noticed._

_Far from it actually, for her face lit up even brighter as she gave her mom a tight hug. The other women present in the room giggled at the adorable little one. Sachan looked up at the woman holding her tight, her bright violet eyes gazing excitedly at the softer, calmer shade of her mother's. "Papa gave it to me as a gift, you know? He said I'm doing really great in my ninja training, you know?"_

_Giddiness seemed to seep out of the child's body, and her mom can't help but smile. She squeezed her daughter's cheeks. "I always knew you had it in you," she doted._

_Sachan giggled. "Mama, keep squeezing! For some reason it feels nice."_

_Her mom looked at her in confusion, before shaking her head and laughing. Sachan's smile seemed to enlarge at the sound of her mother's tinkling laughter. She giggled once more, settling closer to her mother's chest._

_The other women in the room had fallen silent, watching the two with unreadable expressions. Sachan blinked, before looking back at her mom. The woman's eyes watered as she kissed her child on the forehead. Sachan wasn't able to see her mom's expression, but with the way she held her small body tight, she felt as if she was a stuffed toy about to be given away._

_Sachan can imagine how that felt like. She lost her precious stuffed giraffe just the week before._

_At the time, as she looked around in mild confusion, Sachan didn't know what the other women meant with their eyes. Her younger self couldn't care less. Nonetheless, she opened her mouth to ask what they were looking at when the door slid open._

_Her dad stepped in, looking around with a calm gentleness in his fair skin. His eyes quickly found his wife and daughter while the other women awkwardly went back to work. Their eyes flitted between the masters of the household before returning to the thread and cloth they held in their hands._

_"Hisato's back," her dad said. His voice, though gentle, still caused heads to turn unconsciously to him. "He's at the front garden. I asked him to put down his luggage in his room but he was intent on seeing his little sister." He knelt down and patted Sachan's head before lightly poking her forehead. "So stubborn. Don't be like him."_

_Sachan grinned, the light in her eyes shimmering brighter. "Why would I want to be like older brother?" she said, mischief in her tone._

_Her dad laughed and ruffled her hair. Standing up, he offered a hand to her. "Come. Let's see your brother." Sachan nodded and clutched his hand, letting her dad pull her up unto his arms. As they padded to the door, Sachan turned to wave at her mom whose smile was bright with what could only look like pride._

_But right as the door blocked her view, she swore she saw the smile crumble._

_Sachan stared at the door slowly drifting farther away, innocent confusion painted on her features. Her eyes swept past the hallway decorated with vine and flower patterns that seemed to be their family symbol. In the corner of her eye, a figure in a white and red garments appeared from an intersection. For a second, Sachan tensed and her eyes went wide, but when she saw the soft smile on her grandmother's frail features, she relaxed._

_Her dad nodded at his mother. "Where were you, Mother?"_

_"I wanted to take a walk for once. You know you can't keep me in my room for long," she said. Sachan glimpsed a slight shine in her grandmother's eyes, past the crinkles in its corners. Thinking it was the cunning she knew she inherited, she giggled. Her grandmother's gaze went to her. The older woman patted Sachan's hair, carressing its slightly messy lavender locks._

_Sachan's dad chuckled and shook his head. "I know," he muttered. Gesturing to where they had come from, he asked, "Are you going to see Ayako?"_

_The woman nodded. "And I've already talked to Hisato while walking around." She chuckled. "He's become quite the young lad, like you were all those years before."_

_Sachan felt her dad's chest rumble as he laughed. "That's reassuring." Her grandmother smiled at that, before gazing at Sachan's eyes. Her gaze lingered longer than normal, making Sachan blink. Before she could ask, however, her grandmother turned to walk past them._

_She shifted her body to see past her dad's shoulder and once again stared in confusion. Her grandmother's strange gaze made her remember her mom. Sachan shifted back to her original position in her dad's arms._

_"Papa..." she said as she turned her head._

_Her dad strode past another corner. "Yes?"_

_"Why is..." she paused with a tiny squint in her eyes before facing his smile."Why is Mama sad?"_

_Her dad held her gaze. Sachan didn't see anything change in his eyes. There was no curiosity nor coldness. A few seconds passed as he seemed to process what she asked. After turning another corner to the hallway leading straight to the garden, he turned away. "What do you mean?"_

_Sachan tilted her head. "In the room, Mama looked sad before we left."_

_Her father was silent again for a moment. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, Ayame." He then glanced back at her with a small smile._

_Sachan blinked. The curiosity within her bubbled further at the use of her given name. "But––"_

_A loud shout broke her prying. "Aya-chan!"_

_Sachan turned to the garden, scowling. Her brother ambled toward them, his steps light and one hand waving at her. His eyes and tone shone with the playfulness she would've admitted she missed if he hadn't interrupted. "What? What's with that look?" Her brother grinned at her, unfazed by the annoyance clear on her features. He seemed more amused than wary._

_Also smiling, her dad set her down on the floor. Sachan folded her arms, keeping her scowl trained on Hisato. As he held her glare and bent down to say something, her vision blurred. The wind picked up. Sachan blinked and her gut churned, but her dad and brother just stared, unfazed._

_The clouds parted to let the sky rain down darkness around her. Sachan stepped back and reached for her dad when the blobs of darkness swallowed him and her brother. A downpour of rain followed, muffling her tiny, confused shrieks. The droplets crashing near her splashed on her body and face. Looking down, she saw red, sticky drops of wine-colored liquid trickling down her skin. She trembled. A scream settled into her throat, blocked by utter terror and confusion._

_"Wh... What..."_

_The flowers in their garden fell to the ground, bundle by bundle, as if being crushed by a giant unseen. The petals scattered on the now muddy and red soil. Thunder crackled in the heavens and she fell to the floor. The wind picked up, sending dirtied petals hurtling through the air in a wet tornado. Several petals stuck to her face, arms, and legs._

_"Mama... Grandmother..." Sachan sobbed as she tried to crawl backward. "Papa and Nii-chan, where––"_

_A tiny force slapped the side of her face, causing her to shriek. Panicking, she grabbed what stuck onto her face, partly blinding one eye. Her fingers grasped stem, leaves, and muddy petals. She peeled off the object, curling her hands around it as she sobbed at the remaining sting of its earlier slap. The wind howled in her ears as water, petal, and leaves flew about the wooden hallways._

_A gurgling sob escaped her throat once more. She tasted salt, water, and dirt. Cold seeped into her body, causing shivers to rock her already trembling form. She slid her butt farther backward and covered her face with one arm. Feeling a strange warmth in her palm, from what she had peeled off from her face, she slowly unfurled her fist._

_On her hand lay a paper flower, intact and clean. In the darkness of the storm around her, it seemed to gleam._

_Sachan froze, a desperate confusion overpowering the fear wracking her body. "What's going on?" she cried, her hand shaking as the flower remained undirtied from the chaos around her._

_Panicking, she moved to throw it away but the stem latched itself unto her palm. Slowly, it grew longer, wrapping around her wrist. The leaves brushed her palm as the green vine crept up her arm. Its flower gazed straight into her eyes. She shrieked as she waved her arm around, but it stayed. She rubbed her arm on the wall, numb to the scratches on the wall from the storm, but the flower still grew._

_Feeling liquid on her arm, she glanced down, shaking. Blood, sticky and warm, trickled from under the stem, now a vine, as it wrapped around her arm and creeped unto her shoulder. Blood trickled on the leaves and dripped unto the floor._

_Her fear choked her, grappling its way up her throat. "What..." she sobbed. Her tears clouded her vision. She couldn't see the garden, the storm, and the hallway, but she could still see blood seeped into her clothes. Blood stuck unto her arm. Blood. Blood. So much blood._

_Her throat gave way to the terror shaking from every fibre of her body, and––_

* * *

She screamed.

Sachan rose from the bed, her chest heaving heavy, uneven breaths. Sweat dripped down her forehead, neck, and back. Trembling, she hugged herself, disgust filling her thoughts as she felt the salty sweat on her arms and the shirt sticking to her back.

Then, a sudden downpour of sensations seeped into her nerves. She felt the same vivid trickling of warm, vicuous blood on her arm. The same curling vines wrapping around her body. The same cold. The same fear.

She shook her body, screaming and rolling around in her bed as if possessed.

Then she fell.

The welcoming pain from the floor shook off the remaining vividness of her nightmare, replacing them with a throbbing backside. Slowly, as Sachan squinted and cursed under her breath, the vines faded from her nerves. She opened her eyes, staring blankly at the tatami flooring and wall. Breath by breath, her panic settled down from hurried to calm.

After what seemed to be an hour, she hoisted herself up on one arm. Raising her other hand, she massaged her temple and closed her eyes.

 _That nightmare,_ Sachan mused,  _was different._

Other nightmares she remembered were of being chased by shadow figures, being surrounded by apparitions of her past, and being mocked, sneered, and hated by the people she left behind. Sometimes there were the occasional dreams of being pushed into a pile of corpses, and being given a kunai to kill someone without control of her body.

All in all, just normal stuff.

But that one had  _memories,_  even if slightly... warped.

Sachan cursed, shaking her head before sighing. She willed remaining images of her nightmare to curl up into a paper ball and threw them into a mental trash can.  _Done,_  she nodded to herself and tapped her temple,  _empty the recycle bin._  Then she opened her eyes, drinking in her room's furniture. When her eyes found Gintoki's pictures taped on the wall opposite her, she blanched.

Some of the pictures were peeled off, some looked clawed, while in the others, Gintoki and the Odd Jobs were almost unrecognizable. Sachan remembered rubbing the wall in her dream and cringed. The urge to fix every picture - or have them redeveloped - arose in her nerves, but the fatigue that had settled into them post-nightmare overrode it.

With a resigned sigh, she forced herself to stand, wincing at the faint cracking of her joints. She stretched her arms and twisted her waist. Once she felt all her muscles had warmed up for the day, she sighed.

After making quick work of her bed, Sachan trudged to her front yard. She didn't care about her pajamas. Her neighbors can just turn away.

Scowling and mumbling to herself - about pictures, printing fees, food, and neighbors - Sachan gripped the handle of her mailbox and almost ripped the lid off.

She froze. "You have got to be  _shitting_  me."

Inside her mailbox was another paper flower, white, clean, and innocently sitting on top of a newspaper.

* * *

Sachan felt like a robot running on emergency fuel. She trudged along the rooftops, even occassionally tripping over loose plates and falling flat on the roof. She dreaded seeing the result in a mirror. Her feet had its own agenda, and after jumping from roof to roof with no energy nor conscious goal in mind, she realized she was once again on her way to the Odd Jobs. She sighed, berating Waki-san in her head for not giving her some mission she could drown herself in.

Stopping at the roof of the building right across Snack Otose, she watched Gintoki, Kagura, and Shinpachi - and the dog, who stopped following after some steps - noisily trudge down the stairs. Sachan raised an eyebrow at the petite woman they were following.

 _Their client, perhaps,_ she thought. When she saw another two figures trailing behind the Odd Jobs, dressed as ordinary ninjas, she pouted.  _If they needed ninjas, they could have talked to me._

After carefully mulling over her options - "carefully" meaning "barely three seconds" - she followed after them, walking and leaping from rooftop to rooftop.  _I'm sure they don't mind the extra shinobi help,_ she decided.

As it turned out, they didn't need her help and she lost the urge to help out. Their client had wanted help with cleaning a warehouse, in the middle of a forest, and needed people who weren't as lazy as the previous workers she had. Shinpachi and some unfit volunteers - Sachan had to wonder why there were volunteers - were in charge of the grounds. The ninjas' job was to clean and fix the ceiling and the roof. Gintoki and Kagura were sort of in the middle, helping the fitter ones in moving stuff from place to place and going to the upper floor to help the ninjas when needed.

" _Very_  shinobi-like," Sachan muttered, her tone laced with sarcasm as she stared at the ninjas in their positions on the walls and attached to the ceiling. She scrunched up her nose at the dust flying about and coughed lightly.

In the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of the client turning to her. "You there," the woman called. Sachan looked away from her and scowled at the wall. "If you're here anyway, quit being rude and help out."

Sachan sighed, wondering about her strange lack of energy. On other days, she would be jumping around, following Gintoki, getting shoved aside, and helping out. She would be a noisy, masochistic, bundle of sunshine.

But she had woken up empty that day, her body running on reserve fuel and the everyday urge to glimpse Gintoki's face.

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

The client's voice was nearer now. Sachan's stomach coiled with unexplainable wariness at the woman. With her brows furrowed, she turned to meet her gaze.

To Sachan's confusion, the woman's earthy eyes eyes burned with the distaste and anger of a vengeful spirit. They bore into her own squinted gaze, sending a strange foreboding chill up and down her spine.

As much as she hated to admit it, Sachan felt condemned.

Folding her arms, she mirrored the client's upturned lips and furrowed eyebrows. Sachan asked as carefully as she could, "What's your problem?"

That might have seemed ruder than she intended, Sachan realized as the shadows casted on the other woman's features deepened further.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Quit being annoying and help the ninjas up there," she said, pointing up.

"If I don't want to?"

"Then  _leave._ "

Her words, coated with finality and disdain, struck a nerve in Sachan's memory. For a second, the woman in front of her was an older man commanding authority and respect, wearing the same face and saying the same words as––

 _Stop._ Sachan shook her head. Meeting the woman's eyes, she shrugged and muttered, "Whatever."

Sachan strode to the wall farthest from the woman, intent on breaking away from the strange darkness she wore. And, especially, away from the memories that beckoned at Sachan's mind, wanting to break free.

In the next several hours, she forced her usual sunshine out. She ran and jumped around, helping the workers by carrying the smaller boxes. At other times, she climbed the walls to help a few ninjas reach certain areas. She laughed and talked loudly, adding to the jovial atmosphere the Odd Jobs had already instilled.

Still, deep inside, Sachan knew she shouldn't be there. Ever since morning, she was only a copy of the new identity she built in the past few years. Hollow, weak, and fake. She walked around with a grin on her face and emptiness in her chest. With every laughter she gave, a small part of her shriveled away.

"Ah, Sachan-san, watch out!"

Sachan stopped in her tracks. A plank fell in front of her. As Shinpachi ran towards her, she heard an apologetic yelp from above.

"I'm so sorry, Sachan-san. I accidentally pulled too hard on the rope he held and–"

She raised her hand to stop him and smiled. "It's fine," she said before glaring up at the ninja who dropped the plank. The guy yelped out another apology. "Freelance ninjas shouldn't be this incompetent."

Shinpachi chuckled awkwardly. "Well, if it makes you feel better, most of them are actually ninjas Satsuki-san had brought with her from the countryside."

Sachan raised an eyebrow. "They worked for her before this?"

"Yeah. That's all we know, though," he paused, fiddling with his glasses, "she only said she had ninjas working directly under her. She said it would make work easier while the pay remained hefty. That actually made Gin-san accept the job more readily since we'll have 'less work and more pay', as he called it."

Sachan nodded, mulling over the odd information Shinpachi had shared. "And the other ninjas?"

Shinpachi blinked. "I thought you knew them? I heard some of them talk about you."

Sachan's eyes narrowed. "What did they say?"

"Err, something about what a renowned assassin was doing here, of all places."

At the semi-compliment, Sachan nodded and folded her arms, her questions satisfied. Noting her mood change, Shinpachi smiled and gestured behind him. "Then, Sachan-san, I got to go. See you later."

Sachan nodded and Shinpachi waved as he jogged away.

Then she let out a relieved sigh as tension left her shoulders. Sachan mentally thanked Shinpachi for pulling her out of her thoughts.

She didn't mind the occasional mishaps Kagura would "accidentally" make and annoyance Gintoki would show at her - which was acceptable because she always found an opportunity to disturb him - but she was grateful that Shinpachi treated her politely. It helped balance her life into a kind of normalcy.

With Shinpachi's words in mind, she studied the people busying themselves within the warehouse, trying to group them by their appearances. Certainly, most of the ninjas wore black-themed hakama. The rest wore a variety of clothing, and Sachan assumed those were the ones that knew her. Glancing to the black-themed ninjas, she concluded that they were the ones who worked under Satsuki. The small amount of volunteers looked like everyday citizens.

Not a minute later, as the setting sun poured in from the entrance and seeped into the windows, the client-woman - as Sachan labeled her in mind - called for everyone to stop. Ninjas made their way down the walls while some dropped soundlessly unto the floor. As they jogged to the woman standing by the entrance, Sachan noted the strange aura of competence that wasn't present earlier.

The Odd Jobs passed by her, with Kagura and Shinpachi giving cheerful grins. Sachan didn't follow and only watched them, feeling a strange sickening in her stomach. Client-woman Satsuki met them halfway, leaving the ninjas huddled by the door and blocking the sunlight.

From her place, Sachan couldn't hear what Satsuki and the Odd Jobs talked about. Leaning against one of the massive crates, she watched Satsuki nod and hand them a wad of bills. Her eyes narrowed at the woman's bright, ordinary expression. It's as if the woman she talked to that morning was a figment of her imagination, an apparition from her past born from paranoia.

As the sun dipped deeper over the horizon and bathed everything with gold and shadows of violet, the ninjas and volunteers left the warehouse. Some were in groups, while others alone. After chatting with the Odd Jobs for a moment more, the woman left to follow, bringing with her the rest of the ninjas huddled by the entrance.

Sachan returned her gaze to the Odd Jobs standing close together, staring at the cash Gintoki held in his hands. She walked closer to them. As their mumbling registered closer, she realized they were counting the money.

"Alright, Shinpachi-kun. You and Kagura get thirty percent while I get the seventy. Deal?"

Shinpachi bristled. "Hell no!"

"But Gin-san," Sachan stopped beside them as Kagura tried to reach for the money, "would the seventy percent be enough for the both of us?"

Gintoki turned his head to glare at her while holding Kagura's face back with one hand and the money in the other. "Who said I'm sharing? Get out." With one last push on Kagura's face, he brought one foot behind Kagura's to trip her backward. Ignoring Kagura and Shinpachi's angry shouts, he ran to the entrance. Not a second later, they followed.

Sachan stared at them, chuckling to herself despite the growing disturbance in her gut. As she moved to follow them, a scream ripped through the air.

Her heartbeat skipped. She stood frozen for a few seconds before sprinting out the doorway. As her eyes adjusted to the remaining golden brightness outside, she saw Satsuki run to the alert Odd Jobs. Sachan ran to them, her eyes trained on the woman. She was hysteric, her eyes wide, tears running down her face speckled with drops of red liquid. Her clothes, once a pretty pattern of blue and green, had now a deep red color splattered all over.

Sachan didn't need to be a genius to know what those were.

Satsuki grabbed onto Gintoki, shaking him while crying out bursts of words that jumbled together.

"Please help them! They just– Suddenly there were– All of them are– I only–"

Shinpachi and Kagura tried to calm her down, holding her by her arms, as Gintoki squinted at the direction she came from. Sachan followed his line of sight.

Past a few empty and run-down sheds, on the only pathway in the small forest, was a pile of what looked like human bodies.

Sachan sprinted forward, ignoring the Odd Jobs' calls. Her heartbeat thudded with every step she took, but all she can think about is the clawing sensation in her gut.

Upon getting closer, her breath faltered and she gasped. The iron stench of fresh blood filled her nostrils, only worsening her queasy stomach. Bodies were on top of each other in a haphazard pile, as if the culprits - whoever they were - treated them as mere rag dolls. Sachan's chest twisted as she looked at the wide eyes and gaping mouths of the new corpses, proof of a sudden, horrible death.

She stepped back. Running footsteps resounded behind her, but she didn't look back until she felt a warm presence beside her. Turning her eyes to the side, Sachan looked at Gintoki, his face rigid and red eyes trained on the sight in front of them.

"What the hell..." she heard him mumble.

She heard a gasp and she turned her head to see Shinpachi stop running. His face paled and he retraced his steps, rushing to the bushes. Before he started vomiting, Sachan turned back to the pile of bodies.

Taking a deep breath, but nearly hurling due to the vile stench, she closed her eyes and rubbed her arms. Willing herself to calm down, she tried to make sense of the situation. She thought back to when the sickening gut feeling had started.

She squinted.  _That morning... At the warehouse... That woman...?_

With a gasp, she opened her eyes, scanning the bodies once more.

 _No way,_ she thought, shaking her head.

Gintoki shifted beside her. "Miss, what exactly hap– Huh?" At his confused tone, she turned her attention to him. He looked to Kagura. "Where's the woman?"

The young redhead shook her head. "I don't know-aru. We outran her, and suddenly she disappeared. What's going on, Gin-chan?"

"That's what I want to know."

Sachan turned back to the bodies, gulping as her gut twisted further. She flitted her eyes from body to body. As she did so, with every passing second, her confusion and suspicion grew.

_None of the bodies have black clothing._

Sachan stepped back, about to turn to Gintoki to report when she glimpsed a strange white object tucked in the shirt of the topmost body. She paused, narrowing her eyes to try to recognize it. But since she couldn't, she stepped forward, the nausea in her gut deepening.

Once she was at least a meter away, her eyes widened.

It was a wilted and bloodied paper flower.

Sachan trembled as apprehension and paranoia rocked her body. Her blood boiled. Sachan didn't know what she was feeling. Fear? Disgust? Shame?

She didn't know. All of them coiled and fused in her gut, clenching her chest.

She wanted to scream.

"Oi, Sachan?"

Sachan jolted. She stepped forward and with quick movements pulled the flower out. The blood on it stuck to her palm, its petals wet and limp.

_I don't know. It can't be._

"Oi."

Stepping back, she curled her fist as tight as she could, crumpling the already dead flower. It's as if she wanted to squeeze the blood out, to squeeze the life out. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, shouting at her, warning her.

She shook her head and clutched her chest, ignoring the press of the flower on her shirt.  _It's not them. It's not them._

Hearing footsteps nearing, Sachan flinched and turned to the forest, running away into the darkness.

"Sachan!"

"Sachan-san!"

_It can't be them._


End file.
